Marked Ones: Advent of the Demon Prince

Ever since birth, Andre has played second fiddle to his eldest brother. All that could ever be heard in his home was 'Can you believe Richard did..', 'Richard was able to…', 'Why can't our other sons be more like Richard'

Everything in his parents' pathetic lives revolved around his elder brother. The perfect warrior, the perfect strategist, the perfect student, the perfect man… the perfect son.

Oh, how he would have loved to see the horror on their parents' faces to know that their 'perfect' child could only sire a daughter. Not only that, but the daughter he created opened her legs for a filthy Marked One

It brought Andre great joy to see his perfect brother be brought so very low… and by the same child he graciously spared at the cost of a retainer's simple life. Revenge tasted sweet after all.

But this was not the end, no Andre had more he wanted. More he needed. Under no circumstance would he be able to take over the mantle of the house, but his son Thomas could. Thanks to Richard's little slut, the path was clear… but it still was not enough.

Richard needed to be brought lower and lower. It would not be enough until the great leader of House Petra was nothing more than a shell, a husk of his former self.

The one thing he held dearer than any other, was his honor and loyalty to the kingdom. Nothing could strip his loyalty, but his honor and reputation could be shattered.

Andre had recommended the assassin group to hunt down the boy to Richard. They were rather infamous amongst the more unscrupulous nobles for being efficient and ruthless. He had them in his employ for quite some time and simply loaned their services to his brother in a time of need.

The leader of the group was a Runner. A Marked One that avoided military drafts. She was swift, ruthless and a master of infiltration. Her two companions were dangerous as well, the perfect supporters for the assassin leader.

When he first met the elven woman, he was terrified of her. She had jet black hair and amber eyes with a slightly red hue. Her very presence threatened him, even though she had been so relaxed. At any moment she could have taken Andre's life and they both knew it.

She asked him for the details of the job and instantly informed him that it would not be a problem. The price was much less than expected and that surprised him, but Andre would not look a gift horse in the mouth. That was several months ago, and when he met with the assassin again to discuss them helping Richard, she readily agreed to that as well.

Though she demanded that the contract with Richard be done directly and alone. Andre had no concern with that, though he would not have voiced something so rash in front of her.

Now that they were on the march to Watcher's Retreat, Andre spent more and more time with the elf and her party. None of them spoke much and that was very unsettling.

However, Andre found himself completely distracted after a few days of marching by staring at his brother's back and imagining all the ways he was going to make him fall. The rage nearly consumed him and only grew the longer he stayed on the march.

At times he was tempted to simply ask the assassin to just kill Richard, but they would have refused since it would void the contract they had with the lord.

Even though they were murderers for hire, they at least had some honor.

Days and weeks passed by slowly as they marched from before dawn until dusk, hurrying to reinforce the front lines and hopefully push Alorek back.

Loathe though he was to admit, it was good this battle would have Richard for it. Andre was not a tactician, so he would get the use he could while he had the time.

"Hey, porky."

One of the assassin's henchmen, a human wielding a bow, called out to him. He had gotten accustomed to the rude behavior and let it go.

"Why do you guys want this kid dead so bad?"

"I don't really care whether he lives or dies. Honestly a live would be better because it would give him more opportunities to besmirch Richard's name… Hell! If the boy asked me, I'd lock him in a room with my niece and let them go to town! Ha!"

Andre noticed the archer mimic a gagging motion. "You nobles are gross. But hey, money is money. I was just curious if the boy was a big shot or something."

He couldn't help but snort. "Hardly. He's a commoner, adopted by other commoners, and is a Marked One… need I say more?"

"Watch what you say, the boss is liable to hear you and I ain't too sure she will take a liking to you insulting marks and whatnot."

Andre began to say something, but he felt his blood turn to ice as he felt something sharp and cold against the back of his neck. Someone clicked their tongue before a voice as sweet as honey, but as deadly as venom, spoke, "My dear Andre, please say it isn't so! Don't think highly of us Marked Ones?"

"No! no no, I could never think of YOU that way, madam."

"Aw how sweet! You are too kind."

The woman's blade slowly traced its way around the side of his neck before resting under his chin. He felt the flat of the blade force his chin and face upwards so he met the gorgeous assassin in the eyes.

They glowed in the darkness like Elves and Beastmen eyes typically do. There was a sense of excitement behind them due to them being only one more day's travel from their destination.

Slowly, she smiled and removed her dagger from his throat. He finally felt able to breathe again and took in a big breath of fresh air.

"Once we reach the fort, make contact with the Commander of the Marked Ones… Laris or Larry…Leroy… something like that." Andre advised, subconsciously rubbing his neck.

"Of course! The man with the supplies. I hear we can have anything we need."

The smile on her face was seductive, yet terrifying and made Andre gulp despite himself.